A Patchwork Christmas
by A Midnight Dreary
Summary: It's the holiday season and there's a new serial killer in town. While Robin pulls a disappearing act on his team and the city, a few old friends just want to say 'Hi'.
1. Chpt1: Holiday Death

**A/N: **This is _Teen Titans_ with a liberal amount of Bat-shaped sprinkles.

Hello there. I've migrated over from the _Transformers_ section to try my hand at some other old favorites and this was the result. Given that this is the first time I've ever witten for this fandom before, feedback and criticism of the constructive sort will be received with the greatest enthusiasm.

**Disclaimer:** If I really owned _Teen Titans_ and everything that goes with it, I just don't think I'd be writing fanfiction about it.

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**A Patchwork Christmas**

Chapter One: Holiday Death

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It was cold tonight, Lars Bauer mused as he picked his teeth clean of the small meal he had managed to scavenge. It had been an unopened can of chicken soup; moderately filling and a more hearty meal than he had gotten in recent weeks. The chill of winter had set in by the third week of October and the hard frost that had followed shortly after had killed off a lot of edible plants for the winter. Lars had been living on the streets for a depressingly large amount of his adult life. After fallout from a nasty divorce and losing his job, he just hadn't been able to climb his way back into the driver's seat. Life had already crashed once on him and he didn't want to crash a second time.

Besides, he had already hit rock bottom; huddled up in ten layers of clothes and sleeping in a cardboard box with a tiny electric heater he had used for cooking his soup hidden under a trash can. He didn't see how he could possibly sink any lower.

At least he had managed to procure a particularly cozy nook that was shielded from most of the elements. It was a coveted spot, but Lars made sure that his fellow homeless knew that this was **his** spot. When he was dead, then they could fight each other for it all they wanted, but he had to be stone-cold dead before that happened.

He pulled a raggedy blanket up around his neck, yanked his knitted hat lower over his ears and settled in for the night. If there was one thing he could really appreciate about Jump City, it was the silent winter nights. It was a far cry from old Gotham City, Lars's old home, where his life had crashed. In Gotham, the streets were filled with the sound of gunshots and screams and police sirens wailing all night long. A fellow couldn't even get a decent night's sleep, what with all the scoundrels scurrying about with a knife to stab you in the back and the _Bat_. One should not get Lars started on the _Bat_ unless they desired to go deaf. Lars had hopped on a freight train one night and traveled cross-country to find a way to live without that meddlesome idiot in a ridiculous costume.

Not to say that Jump didn't have its own connection to the _Bat_ in the form of some fourteen-year old kid who wore a costume that was entirely too colorful for those in the vigilante business, but Lars had discovered he could easily disassociate the _Bird_ from the _Bat_. The _Bird_ was far, far less threatening.

Nevertheless, Lars had few complaints about Jump City and its routinely quiet nights. Sometimes, he felt that he was going soft; Gotham kept one rubber-necking, even on the quietest of nights. Jump was so still at times that, in his first few months of living on the wrong side of the tracks in this city, Lars sometimes woke up with the fleeting thought that he had died. Now, after four years, the feeling had passed and he was secure in the knowledge that he could go to sleep at night and wake up alive the next morning.

But even he should have known not to get too comfortable with the current arrangements.

He must have had his eyes closed for only fifteen minutes when he was first disturbed. Bags of rotting garbage and moldy old boxes rustled in something that wasn't a breeze. Maybe it was just a cat. Yeah, just a cat.

Ten minutes later, the rustling noise came again and Lars's eyes flew open, instantly on alert, his adrenal glands releasing a rush of energy in preparation for whatever was coming next. That had come from much closer at hand and too loud to have been caused by a cat. Someone was trying to sneak up on him. Maybe it was Old Phil. Old Phil had had his greedy little eyes on this lovely spot ever since Lars had moved in. Maybe the older man was finally going to make his move.

Hah! That wasn't going to happen! Not tonight, if he had anything to say about it.

Lars slid his hand quietly underneath his ratty coat, behind his back and his fingers closed around the lukewarm metal of the cro-bar he had always kept with him. Making sure he had a firm grip, he slid as silently as he could out of his box and crept to the narrow mouth of the short alley he had taken up residence in four years ago. It opened into a larger alley that ran the length of the wrong side of the tracks. Some clever soul on the other side had had the balls to refer to it as "Beggar's Alley" and the name had stuck ever since.

Back to the dirty bricks, Lars breathed slowly, trying to limit the amount of white mist that escaped his mouth. It was snowing again and the wind had a very biting nip to it, but that wasn't deterring whatever was determinedly foraging through the garbage bins. It sounded like some great dog was rooting around in the refuse, searching for a late-night snack. Lars didn't care what it was; it was in his territory and he couldn't have anyone or anything lurking around here for any reason.

Bracing himself, he leapt out into the main alley, brandishing the tarnished cro-bar at a stretch of empty pavement. He stared stupidly at the empty alley laying before him, eyes darting this way and that for the intruder on his territory. But no matter which way he looked, the immediate area was empty. Hmm, must have just been a cat after all. Lars let the cro-bar swing down to his side and he was about to return to the safety of his hide-away when he saw it.

Not five feet from the soles of his worn shoes was a pile of black trash bags; the ten-gallon drum variety. And every single last one of them had been torn wide open by something that had done it in one swipe.

"Jeezus..." he breathed and strode over to have a closer look. Whatever had done this must have had some monstrous claws. The garbage inside was no longer recognizable for what it had been in a happier life. What had done this?

A sudden tingle ran down Lars's spine and his head snapped up from his inspection, neck ramrod straight. One did not survive on the streets of Gotham without developing some kind of sixth sense and though he had not needed it much in this city, it was still there. Lars knew one fact right away. He was being watched very, very closely. He stood up and turned around to face the person hiding there.

"All right, come out ya bastard." he growled, raising the cro-bar threateningly.

Warm, rank breath blew on the back of his neck and there was an animalistic growl directly in his ear.

Lars Bauer never stood a chance.

His dying scream echoed for miles on frigid air, but there was no one to hear it.

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The holiday season was fast approaching and the spirit of Christmas was in the crisp, cold air. One could almost breathe it in and become infected by it; much like the poisonous gas that was sometimes released upon the unsuspecting citizens by the villain of the week. The random criminals and insane psychopaths that regularly plagued Jump City were locked away in the prison or the newly rebuilt Asylum for the Criminally Insane that had shiny, improved facilities to hold freaks of nature like Cinderblock and Overload. The current lack of crime -- super villain-instigated or otherwise -- helped with cultivating a sense of goodwill and peace that was supposed to be present at this time of year and the folks of Jump had a good feeling that they just might get through this holiday season without some world-ending calamity befalling their beloved city.

There were five teen vigilantes who worked their butts off to keep the city safe and for them, this lack of activity meant a lot less work for them. While some of them (read: Robin, the Boy Wonder) were overtly suspicious about this and paranoid that some creep was planning something reality-bending -- having be taught that crime never took a holiday and therefore, neither could the vigilantes -- the others just couldn't find a reason to complain too much. It was the holiday season and the heavy, record-breaking snowfalls were keeping a lot of the petty small-time criminals bunked up somewhere warm and snug. Even crime was allowed take a break for the holidays.

Regardless, the five teen vigilantes, known to their city and part of the rest of the world as the Teen Titans, had decided that so long as no criminals were rearing their heads, they had deserved a little bit of a break as well.

"I've said it once and I'll say it again... BOO-YA! In yo face, BB! You just got owned!"

Beast Boy was staring open-mouthed in blank shock at the screen, the video game controller clutched in limps hands as Cyborg moon-walked his way across the floor in victory. They had been playing _Mega-Mutilation Part VI: The Creature from the Black Lagoon Strikes Back (special edition)_. Particularly, they were competing in the two-player unlockable combat round. The commando ninja-pirate hero faced off to the death against the Creature from the Black Lagoon in a one-on-one fistfight. There were no special weapons or swampy henchmen. Beast Boy had been playing as the Creature.

And he had lost terribly.

"You cheated!" the changeling accused Cyborg, who was break-dancing by this time with a gleeful grin on his face. "You did some weird mind-meld thingie with the GameStation and cheated!"

"Nope! I'm just the best commando ninja-pirate hero there is!" Cyborg said triumphantly, one hand at his waist, the other fist banging on his chest. It created a loud clanging noise that echoed weirdly through the living area.

"Rematch." Beast Boy demanded in a low voice.

"C'mon BB, you're just gonna get trashed again--" Cyborg started complacently, but Beast Boy was having none of that.

"REMATCH!!"

No one ever beat him at _Mega-Mutilation Part VI: The Creature from the Black Lagoon Strikes Back (special edition)_! No one!

Across the room, doing her best to use the book as a shield from the idiocy of her team-mates, Raven wondered why she just hadn't retreated to her bedroom yet. Surely, it would be nice and quiet in there. Just her and her book. There would only be the hiss of the heater and the soft rush of the snow falling past the window from an iron-gray sky. Her own peaceful, and more importantly, private sanctuary.

But for reasons unknown to her -- or more likely, reasons she wasn't about to fess up to -- she had decided to stay in the main living area with all the loud noises and distracting colors flashing around her.

Christmas was still three or so weeks away, but Starfire had already buzzed around and put up the decorations, cheerfully singing carols and baking truly hideous concoctions that were supposed to be the traditional foods of a similar celebration back on her home world. Naturally, no one touched whatever she made. It was rule they had developed for the sake of their stomachs. If you can't identify it or its component parts, then don't eat it.

Cyborg and Beast Boy started their rematch with much yelling and somewhat good-natured sportsmanship. Starfire sang loudly and cheerfully as she threw together something call "faleglonk" which was supposed to a traditional Tamaranean cake of happiness and peace, but as it contained soy sauce, it would go uneaten, end up in the fridge, grow blue fuzzy mold, and eventually sprout eyes and teeth. They could repair the Tower whenever it got trashed -- which was an occurrence that happened with regular frequency -- but it seemed that no one could spare an hour or two to go grocery shopping. They lived off of frozen pizza and take-out food.

When Raven really thought about, she realized that she had absolutely no idea where their finances were coming from. They weren't exactly hurting for money, but they certainly didn't get a check from the city every month as an extension of their gratitude from saving them millions in building repair. Beast Boy's tofu certainly didn't buy itself and Starfire had to get her shopping money from somewhere.

But, Raven supposed, as long as those checks that were slid under their bedroom doors once a month didn't stop coming, the question of where their money was coming from wouldn't become an issue.

With supreme effort brought on by daily meditation, the empath was able to return her attention to _The Anthologies of Poe; Volume One_. As for Robin, the Boy Wonder... Well, he was out retrieving their mail.

The Titan Tower had an impressive view of the city and the harbor. It was a relatively peaceful location with few interruptions, except for the annual seagull nesting season when dozens upon dozens of gulls would descend on the small island to have their babies on the rocky shores. Starfire loved watching the little chicklets hatch and peep at their parents. Beast Boy hated the gulls because they always mobbed him for no obvious reason. He was usually picking white and gray feathers out of his hair and clothes and being disgruntled about the beak marks for days.

The downside of living on a small island in the middle of the harbor was that they couldn't get deliveries of any kind. If they wanted pizza or Chinese food or any other kind of takeout, they had to go into the city and get it themselves. They also had a post office box that only got checked about once every two months and that was if things were going well.

The doors to the main living area swished open, revealing the snow-encrusted Boy Wonder. He hadn't gotten the chance to shake the snow off yet and resembled a rather ugly snowman. The entire Tower was hell to heat during the winter, so only the main living areas were warm enough to be habitable. The air outside was only a few degrees colder than the parts of the Tower that weren't heated.

"Friend Robin! You have returned!" Starfire cried from the kitchen area. She was holding a spoon that was covered in some purple goop and wearing one of Cyborg's "Kiss the Cook" aprons. "Was your trip pleasant?"

"I only went to the post office." Robin said, shedding large amounts of snow with every movement he made.

"Anything good?" Cyborg asked distractedly, in middle of thrashing Beast Boy's character a second time.

"Lots of junk mail." Robin replied, wiping the snow out of his spiky hair. "Some fan mail--"

"Dude. We get _fan mail_?" Beast Boy asked in wonderment. "Anything for me?"

He had suddenly forgotten about the game and Cyborg seized the opportunity to crush his opponent.

"Trust me, Beast Boy. You really don't want to know what people have been writing to us." Robin told him sincerely. He had once taken a peek at one such letter addressed to him. Out of curiosity and nothing more. It had come from a teenaged girl and the contents of it had been enough to give him nightmares for weeks. He was **not** an angst-filled person who wore a mask all the time because he was so hideously scarred underneath and there were **not **wounds on his heart or his soul or his spirit and he was **not** even going to start on those idiots who wanted to marry him. And if one more love-struck girl _dare_ compare him to the Dark Knight...

Where did those girls get crazy ideas like that anyways?

"Are you sure?" Beast Boy asked slyly, staring at the bundle of letters Robin was still holding. "You know the girls love me."

With a scowl, Robin dropped the letters to the floor and their pet grub Silky instantly pounced on the papery goodness.

"No! Silky, don't eat those!" Beast Boy cried, lunging for the envelopes; he had to know what his fans were saying! It would be crime if he didn't know! But Silky had learned his table manners from Starfire and the envelopes were gone in seconds, ink, stamps and all.

"Starfire **was** saying just the other day that Silky needs more fiber in his diet." Robin said with just a hint of cheek and a wide grin.

"That's right!" the Tamaranean princess chimed from the kitchen area. "Silky is a growing boy!"

"But -- those were my fans." Beast Boy protested half-heartedly, staring at the tiny scraps that were left and the satisfied grub.

"Hey BB." Cyborg called tauntingly from the couch, dangling the game controller by the wire. "Wanna go for round three?"

The green changeling suddenly went from gazing despondently at the floor to leaping over to the couch and announcing that Cyborg was going down hard. Robin placed the large package he had been carrying down beside Raven, who calmly reached for it without actually looking. The empath had gotten subscribed to a book-list and every month, she was sent a new book of the dark and spooky variety.

Robin looked around the living area and felt a funny swell of warmth in his chest. Hmm, maybe it was that holiday spirit everyone was talking about. Starfire had done a bang-up job with the decorations. Copious amounts colorful lights and tinsel and ribbons were draped along the walls to the point where one wall looked like a great, fuzzy, many-eyed being with a bad dye-job. There was a Christmas wreath above the door and hanging from the ceiling were two great brass bells decorated with fake holly and red ribbons. No one knew where those bells had come from and Starfire wasn't telling. She had started looking embarrassed when asked.

The Tamaranean princess was utterly enamored with Christmas. Coming from a very emotionally-oriented race of people, the swell of holiday cheer and goodwill caused her to float just about everywhere; she hadn't put her feet on the ground for longer than a few seconds since Thanksgiving. Starfire was utterly determined to make sure that her friends enjoyed Christmas to the fullest possible extent and her efforts seemed to be working.

Another contribution had been made to the Tower that Starfire had not been responsible for. A wintry, Christmas scene had been painted onto one of the windows; depicting two people in a horse-drawn sled with a full moon and falling snow. Father Christmas and his eight reindeer were crossing in front of the golden moon. None of them knew who had painted it, as it had appeared overnight. But Robin had spotted flecks of paint on Cyborg's fingers the morning after. Just for the sake of not embarrassing his friend, he didn't call him out on it. They currently lacked a Christmas tree, but there was still time left and they all had this feeling that if they got it too soon, Silky would eat it.

The lovely spell was broken when a cold trickle of snow suddenly melted down the back of his neck and Robin excused himself to change his clothes. He wore a slightly altered costume for fighting crime in the winter; long sleeves and a longer, heavier cape that kept him protected from the bite of winter. It just kept him too warm in the Tower.

In the privacy of his room, he shook the last of the snow out of his clothes and dried his hair off. Then he extracted another envelope he had hidden in the depths of his cape; one he had absolutely no intention of showing to the others. There was no return address, but Robin could recognize the spiky handwriting that the forward address had been written in. He would recognize that handwriting blindfolded; quite a feat.

"Please, please just be a Christmas card." Robin pleaded, shutting his eyes as he slit open the envelope. But he knew better; Batman just wasn't a Christmas card man.

And Bruce Wayne couldn't afford to be caught dead sending a Christmas card to the Boy Wonder. In addition to just being plain weird, it was a potential weak point that crazies like the Joker would pounce upon without mercy.

The note was almost curtly short in its length; eight words long and written by an impatient hand. The entire piece of paper bled of impatience; not even a simple "Hi, how are you, I'm fine". Nope, just straight down to business and no time for idle chit-chat. He was going to have to send the Bat a very interestingly-worded Christmas greeting card just for this.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Robin had delayed slightly in changing, for the lights in the corridor suddenly began to flash red, accompanied by the whine of a siren. There was trouble going on downtown. Groaning, he wadded up the note and tossed it right into the waste bin -- it bounced off the rim and hit the floor, but he didn't notice. Then he darted out of his room and high-tailed it back to the main room. The various activities of his comrades had ceased and the video game had been replaced by a map of the city, bearing one flashing red light in the middle of a long stretch of road on the wrong side of the tracks.

"What's going on?" Robin asked.

"Reported murder." Cyborg replied.

"This close to Christmas too." Robin sighed, to ignore the cold feeling that was settling in his stomach. But crime never took a holiday and he had told his team that. The notion had been emphasized last year with the Toymaker and his special brand name of havoc (bad pun completely intended). "Where is it?"

"Beggar's Alley." Raven replied, the screen zooming in over the exact location. "The body is fairly torn up. So far, they're saying it was a dog attack." Blue-violet eyes zeroed in on Robin. "Are we going in?"

"Yes! We must be certain that this was not an attack of the dog!" Starfire said, already burning her usual righteous fire.

"Dude, it's freezing out there!" Beast Boy protested, jabbing a finger towards the window. Beyond it, snow was falling thickly.

"Crime doesn't take a holiday, Beast Boy." Robin repeated; practically his mantra for this time of year. It kept him from getting too complacent. "And neither can we. Titans! Go!"

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The police had been quick to rope off that part of the alley and descend upon the body. Homeless or not, a murder must be investigated; in case the murderer desired to be a danger to the rest of society.

Her collar turned up against the cold, the Chief of police, Pacifica Reilly, made her way over to the scene with two shadows at her shoulder. The forensics team were still scoping out the area, making notes and taking pictures and such. There was someone who needed to have a look at the body before they got their hands on it. Reilly and her two shadows were allowed under the yellow tape and onto the scene.

"Mother of God!..." Detective Henley, one of the Police Chief's shadows, burst out, revulsion dripping off his tone. "Ain't no dog that did that!"

Reilly swallowed down what she guessed was vomit and locked the part of her that was freaking out behind a metaphorical door so she could look at the situation from a purely analytical perspective. She stared in horrified fascination at the frozen corpse, or at least what was left of it. Just barely recognizable as being human, the body had been ripped open; ribs torn asunder, throat slashed, various internal organs no longer internal. What was worse, the body looked as though it had been chewed on and great chunks of it were just plain missing. It wasn't until someone behind her started to gag slightly did she remember that she had a guest with her.

"Well Gordon? Does that look like one of your murders?" Reilly inquired, happy for an excuse to take her eyes away from the gruesome death.

Police Commissioner James Gordon of Gotham City rubbed at his throat and suppressed the urge to gag again. This was the eighth body that he had seen in this state, but he did not expect himself to grow used to it.

"Yes." he said, grimacing. "Yes, that looks exactly like one of the murders we had."

His voice tightened as he attempted not to vomit. Gotham had just recently seen a string of murders that mirrored this one exactly and the culprits behind it had not been captured. They had vanished without a trace.

"Shit!" Detective Henley spat, wiping his chin. He had not quite been able to repress the gag reflex and there was now a small puddle of sick on the ground. "Any ideas about the damn thing that did this?"

"Isn't that your area of expertise, Detective?" Reilly asked, not sounding the least bit condescending or hostile.

Detective Henley pulled a face.

"I don't even know where to begin on this one." he admitted, edging closer to what was left of the body, covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. He kneeled down beside the cro-bar that was still clutched in one dead hand. "Hey! Someone come check this thing for prints!"

As one of the forensics came forwards, Gordon took one of Reilly's arms and steered her back to the other side of the police tape and out of sight of the murder scene.

"Are you sure that he can handle this?" the Commissioner asked in a low voice after making sure that everyone around them was too preoccupied to listen in.

"Martin Henley is the best detective on the force." Reilly replied, defensive about her men. "I realized from the moment you warned me about this serial killer that Henley would be the best person to set on the case, if the murderer ever came to Jump."

"I'm not doubting his skills." Gordon started, well-aware that that was **exactly** what it sounded like. "I'm just hoping that he knows when to pull out of an investigation before it gets ugly and he runs the risk of getting himself killed."

Reilly gave him a curious and questioning look, but didn't say anything so he went on.

"Whoever our murderer is, he has people working for him. People with access to some serious firepower." the Gotham Police Commissioner explained. He glanced around again and leaned a little closer. "You know of Gotham's Dark Knight?"

"Hailed as the greatest detective of all time." Reilly said, nodding. Like almost all superheroes, the Batman was known nation-wide; not for his amazing powers, but for his lack thereof. He used technology and simple brain-power to solve his crimes and he was well-respected for that.

"Well, the greatest detective of all time got himself in just a little too deep with this exact case and ended up with several broken ribs and a nasty cut on the leg." Gordon replied, wincing very slightly at the memory. They had been getting close to closing on a solid lead. The police had had the building surrounded, Batman had been inside with some mooks, no doubt being all dangerous and threatening... Then the Dark Knight had come flying out a window on the top floor, followed by a great gout of flame and shattering glass. He had hit the frozen ground like a rag doll, swearing up a blue streak at the knife that had been jammed in his thigh beside a three-inch long and heavily bleeding gash. He had still managed to stagger away from the incident, more or less, under his own power, even with what was later discovered to be four broken ribs. It was sometimes jarring to remember that Batman was only human under that mask and that even he made mistakes that were almost fatal. "The suspect took that as his opportunity to get away. That was nine days ago. Right after Thanksgiving. Batman has been laid up ever since."

"And now it looks like the killer has come here." Reilly finished, glancing towards the murder scene. Detective Henley was emerging and heading for them, mopping the sweat off his brow.

"We got some prints off the cro-bar." he told the Chief and Gotham Commissioner. "Should have an I.D. on the guy tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"Good." Reilly turned to her guest. "Commissioner Gordon, I don't want to be the one who keeps you away from your job and your family, but would you be willing to stay here and help us out? Your city has already dealt with this and it's my hope that you have some useful information that'll help us get to the bottom of this."

"Of course I will." Gordon said. "This killer was initially Gotham's responsibility and Gotham should have a hand at bringing him down."

"Thank you for your assistance." Reilly said sincerely, seizing the commissioner's hand and squeezing it gratefully. "Truly, thank you. We would be at a loss to explain this if you hadn't come here to warn us personally--"

"Why did you come here?" Detective Henley asked bluntly, cutting right into the chief's sentence.

Gordon didn't answer that question and settled for frowning. Detective Martin Henley had all the tact of the former Gotham detective, Harvey Bullock, who had been forced into early retirement because of circumstances he didn't like to talk about. And similar mannerisms too. Truth be told, Gordon had wanted to see if the whispers about Jump City were true. He had come here hoping to catch a glimpse of the vigilante team that kept this city safe and maybe finally put to rest a rumor that had fueled a long-running bet in his office. The winner's pot had been reaching disgustingly high numbers lately.

"I mean," Detective Henley went on, apparently unperturbed by the lack of response. "This ain't even your city--"

"Henley!" Reilly snapped and the detective shut up at once. "Commissioner Gordon is willing to give up his time to help us solve this case **and** he is a guest here. You will show respect where it is due."

Detective Henley nodded sullenly and muttered something that sounded apologetic to the Commissioner. Gordon didn't expect any more than that. His office would be in good, capable hands in his absence and Batgirl could easily handle Gotham's criminal underworld while Batman was recovering. Batman was not the sort of vigilante to be trifled with; it was just common sense to assume that those who had trained under him were not vigilantes to be trifled with either. If Gotham's underworld taught its inhabitants only one thing, it was that Batman and his ilk were to be regarded in a strictly professional manner.

"While I'm here, is there any chance that I would be able to meet..." Gordon trailed off. He couldn't remember the name Jump's vigilante team went by.

"The Titans?" Reilly asked. Gordon nodded. He understood that the Titans were viewed more as a sort of extension of the police force rather than a totally separate branch. Meeting with them would be beneficial if he was going to be staying here.

Detective Henley's mouth pulled down in a scowl. He was the prideful sort of man who enjoyed his role of protecting his city and detested it when his job as an enforcer of the law was routinely usurped by five teenagers. There couldn't even be a jewelry store robbery without those kids showing up. As far as he was concerned, that lot was far too young to be mixing themselves up in this side of the law.

"Knowing them, they'll be here soon." the detective snorted, swiping at the droplet of mucus clinging to the tip of his nose.

"Henley." Reilly started in a warning tone. "The Titans have helped us out a number of times in the past. Their assistance has been more than valuable."

Gordon was pleased to see Jump's Chief of police standing up for the Titans. Too many times in the past, other cities had been completely willing to throw their masked saviors to the dogs at the slightest provocation. Gotham was guilty of that, but slowly, times were changing. Batman was now an accepted part of Gotham's law enforcement. It had just taken nearly a decade to get to that point.

There was a familiar whipping noise of heavy cloth and thick-soled boots coming to a halt somewhere very close by. Above Gordon's head, snow was pushed off the edge of the roof behind him. He couldn't help but smile a little -- had someone been taking notes?-- being well-acquainted with both of those noises.

Just as he was well-acquainted with the voice that burst out with a startled: "Commissioner Gordon?!"


	2. Chpt2: Under the Cape and Cowl

**A/N:** I have great respect for anyone who's written a line of dialogue for Starfire before. I had no idea how hard it was until I tried. Still... I guess I succeeded.

The plot begins to grow.

**Disclaimer:** If I really owned _Teen Titans_ and everything that goes with it, I just don't think I'd be writing fanfiction about it.

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**A Patchwork Christmas**

Chapter Two: Under the Cape and Cowl

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Cyborg had flatly refused to take his baby, the T-Car, over to the wrong side of the tracks, saying that it was far too valuable a car to leave to the mercies of the bad part of Jump. He had parked in a respectable-looking parking lot nearby and the Titans had to hoof it the rest of the way.

Before they had even crossed the tracks, Robin was leaping onto the nearest rooftop, intent on making his way to Beggar's Alley without once setting foot on the ground. Beast Boy had once said that their fearless leader had a phobia of solid ground.

Robin had never given this comment much thought, but if he ever did, it might have occurred to him that he did have a sort of phobia of solid ground. He had been taught to stay off the ground whenever possible; to stay above his opponent's head because A) gravity was a powerful force when used to your advantage and B) during a search, people rarely thought to look up.

Plus he had developed a habit of making an entrance.

That's what he got for living with the master of making an entrance.

The flashing lights on top of the police cars guided Robin to the right location. As he approached across the tightly-packed rooftops, he started to hear a low murmur of voices. The wrong side of the tracks was silent in the presence of the law -- the ne'er-do-wells were keeping their heads low for the moment -- and the sounds were carrying well through the long, shallow canyon that was Beggar's Alley.

His cape whipped around him as he finally came to a halt, knocking a bit of snow off the edge of the roof. He looked down when there was movement, realizing that he was not as alone as he had thought.

Standing in the alley below was Police Chief Reilly and Detective Henley, both of whom looked a little pale and drawn. They were usually the first two people to be on a scene; Reilly did like to be out in the thick of the action and wherever she was, Detective Henley was usually a step or so behind, acting like the Chief's guard dog.

But they weren't alone this time. They were standing beside someone that Robin couldn't recall having seen before-- Scratch that; that brown trench coat did look familiar, as did the graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses-- Hold on... Was that--

"Commissioner Gordon?!"

Robin didn't even realize he had spoken out loud until James Gordon -- for it was indeed Gotham City's Police Commissioner -- turned to look up at him, a mixed expression of astonishment and delight appearing on his face. Robin wobbled slightly on his slippery perch in his own surprise, half-alarmed and yet oddly thrilled to run across such a familiar face in this neck of the woods.

_At least it's not Batman._ Snickered a wry voice from the back of his mind and he sternly told it to shut up.

As Gordon was standing with Chief Reilly and Detective Henley not too far from a murder scene, it was safe to assume that they were all here for the same reason and that Gordon had **not** come for the sole purpose of giving Robin the shock of his life. He probably wasn't here on the behalf of Batman either, though that wouldn't have been a bad guess. But Gordon had **not** sought Robin out first, meaning the official business was with the legally recognized branch of law enforcers.

"You've met?" Reilly looked from Gordon who still looked delighted, if somewhat surprised to see the Boy Wonder here in the city, to Robin who appeared to be experiencing some facial spasms as he tried to find an appropriate reaction. Gordon managed to pull his attention around to the Police Chief.

"Gotham was his old stomping grounds." the Police Commissioner said, jabbing his thumb towards the teen vigilante in question.

Reilly breathed a sigh of relief she didn't realize she had been holding in. She knew that the Titans had something of a temperamental leader, even at the best of times. She had met face to face with Robin on official business a number of times before and while his attitude towards stopping crime was commendable, the boy still needed a good smack across the face when it came to dealing with the regular folk. Reilly had been dreading when Gordon would meet the boy, so to hear that the two were at least familiar with each other was a great relief -- though how familiar was a question she would have to wait to find out. This would make cooperation much, much easier to come by, however. Reilly would hate to bring down the level of amenity that they all got along with just by bringing in someone brand-new.

Though there was still the matter of the other four Titans and what they had to say about this.

"Chief of Police Reilly!"

And speaking of whom...

Reilly glanced down towards where one the streets crossed the alley, where the rest of the Titans were approaching. Leading the charge was the resident alien girl and not for the first time, the Chief of police was seized by a small fit of jealously at the sight of her. Reilly was in good health and at a good weight for a woman of her age and occupation, but she would never get back the days where she could put whatever she wanted down her gullet and have it not go straight to her hips.

Gordon had a good look at the four people approaching and decided that Robin had put together a rather odd-looking team. He shouldn't be surprised; Gotham was home to some rather -- er, _colorful_ characters. Very, very colorful characters. Given what he had spent most of his life fighting and who he had spent that time with, Robin no doubt felt more at home among stranger people who populated Jump, rather than the normal folk. And if they were still working together after two years so far, they probably balanced each other out quite nicely.

"Police Chief Reilly! How wonderful it is to see you!" Starfire said, clasping the Chief's hands in both of her own. "I truly hope that this wonderful season of Christmas has come to you in good health!"

"Yes... I'm fine." Reilly said through slightly gritted teeth. The alien girl's excessive cheerfulness was almost too much to stomach even at the best of times and with the holiday season upon them, it just seemed to have exploded all over the place. But Reilly was the type of person who always sought to be polite unless she was shaking down a perp. "Titans, go have a look at the scene and then we'll talk about this. I really think you need to see what we're dealing with first."

Not so surprisingly, they gave a look to Robin who seemed to have engaged a staring contest with Gordon, as though daring one another to say something first. Even Robin briefly forgot there was official business to attend to while there was a face from his past staring him down -- er, up? Then Gordon quietly cleared his throat and that snapped the Boy Wonder out of his stupor.

"Uh-- What?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from the Gotham Commissioner and looking instead at Reilly. He wasn't entirely sure when the rest of his team had arrived.

"Dude, you okay?" Beast Boy asked. "You spaced out."

"I'm fine." Robin said shortly. He jumped from the rooftop and making a rather pointed attempt to ignore the presence of the Gotham Commissioner, he started for the murder scene. The rest of the Titans followed, each -- with the exception of Raven -- giving the newcomer a curious look. Detective Henley gave a soft, derisive snort at their backs and then wandered away in the opposite direction, mumbling something about a cup of strong coffee.

"Motley-looking bunch." Gordon commented to Reilly, his arms crossed against the cold.

"And they've pulled our asses out of the fire more times in the last two years than I can count on both hands." the Chief said, shoving her gloved hands in her coat pockets. "If I had known that you'd be sticking around for a while, I would have pulled out our files on them."

"That's alight." Gordon said, hearing several loud noises of disgust from the murder scene as well as what sounded like a valiant effort not to puke. "Just a quick introduction will do."

"Okay, the big guy with the cybernetic implants is Cyborg. He's the tech-geek of the team. The really cheerful one who's floating is actually an alien--" Reilly laughed as Gordon did a double take. "Her name is Starfire and yes, I've always seen her that happy. The gloomy-looking one is named Raven and she says she's an empath. The green one calls himself Beast Boy and he can turn into any animal that exists and a few that are extinct." She shot Gordon a sideways look. "You're already familiar with Robin?"

"For the most part." Gordon nodded, though he would bet his next day off that he didn't know Robin very well anymore. And it had been some two year and Batman had been nothing short of tight-lipped (more so than usual) for a while so no one had heard a thing about the Boy Wonder after he had vacated Gotham. And it wasn't like they had met in coffee shops every other week.

"Good." Reilly said, glancing back to the crime scene.

The Titans were leaving it, each face bearing varying degrees of disgust and horror. No surprise that they hadn't spent very long at it.

"If I wasn't already a vegetarian," Beast Boy was saying, one hand covering his mouth as he staggered along behind the rest of the team. "That would put me off meat forever."

"Me too. I have totally lost my appetite." Cyborg said, sounding a bit faint and looking green. He still had a largely organic stomach and it could still reject whatever went into it.

"There's no way a human could have done that." Raven stated flatly. The only outward sign of her discomfort was that her face was drained of what little color it had had in the first place. She was just as un-expressionless as ever.

"Then what did?" Robin asked the all-important question, looking around as though he expected the answer to come bursting out of the walls and attack them. Then again, he looked at lots of things that way.

"That's the question we're hoping to find the answer to." Reilly spoke up, approaching the Titans as they cleared the worst of the crowd. She gestured back behind her. "This gentleman is Police Commissioner James Gordon, from Gotham City."

Gordon only gave a slight nod as the other four Titans saw him. Robin didn't so much as blink.

"The murderer originally came out of Gotham, so he's graciously offering his assistance and the information the G.C.P.D previously collected on this case." the Chief finished.

"Then," Starfire started before anyone else had thought to speak, floating right up to the Police Commissioner who stepped back, unaccustomed to floating alien girls. "Please feel welcome to our city! We are most thankful to have you! We must find the monster responsible for this!"

Any leads on possible suspects?" Robin asked, not interested in any small talk at the moment. He was **definitely** going to have a chat with his old boss later on today about this thing. If the being that had done that had gotten away from Batman...

"The only possible lead we had escaped nine days ago before we could get anywhere close to it." Gordon said. "As far as we've gathered, it's just one man. He has people working for him to cover his tracks -- that much is obvious. But the number of people; we were never able to figure that out. We suspected that he's rotating them out. Furthermore, we don't know who this man is, what his motives are, none of that." He shook his head, already feeling defeated. "You won't have very much of a head-start."

"Don't worry about that." Cyborg said, holding up a hand. After seeing the mangled body, he was eager to start getting to the bottom of this. "Start by telling us what you know and we'll try to put it together." He clapped a hand on Robin's shoulder. The Boy Wonder would have jumped quite badly if Cyborg's hand hadn't come down so heavily. Regardless, he still twitched like someone had slapped him. "Robin's research boy. He'll get it figured out before the rest of us. Guaranteed."

Gordon raised an eyebrow curiously. The scowl that was already on Robin's face seemed to deepen and the Gotham Commissioner was struck with the uncanny resemblance the boy had with his former mentor. It didn't help that Robin was enveloped in his heavy cape in a most Batman-like way. Gordon held his tongue on the comment he really wanted to make, deciding that this wasn't the place or time.

"We found seven victims in Gotham over a two-week period." the Gotham Commissioner explained. "The murders extended through Thanksgiving. The tabloids gave the murderer the name 'the Holiday Killer'. He killed indiscriminately. There were no verifiable links between any of the victims. They were all of different ages, income levels and ethnicity; both man and woman. Their bodies were left where they were killed and there was no pattern in the locations of the murders. Any clues that could have I.D-ed the perp couldn't be found. The only things that connect the victims are how they were murdered. They were all missing their hearts and they all looked like **that**."

He jabbed a finger back towards the murder scene and three of the five kids proceeded to look thoroughly disgusted. Raven kept up a straight face -- her shoulders did stiffen; but that was the only visible reaction -- and Robin began to look more pensive than before. The police were beginning to make preparations to move the frosted corpse to the city morgue for a more in-depth examination and it was about damn time too. The bloody thing had been sitting out all night. The stench of death was strong in the alley.

"Was there any record of this happening before Gotham?" Robin inquired flatly.

His voice was tight and there was an odd intensity in even the most casual of glances. Dealing with Batman had taught Gordon how to spot the extremely subtle gradations in facial expressions and Robin was really starting to pull those Batman-esque faces.

"No." The commissioner shook his head. "The killer first showed up in Gotham. We can be sure of that."

"And then he got away from the Batman?" Beast Boy asked, disbelieving the very idea. "The Batman's like, the best crime-fighter in the entire world. How does _any_ criminal get away from him?"

"With sheer amounts of firepower and henchmen." Gordon replied flatly and the changeling fell back in a meek sort of silence. Any super hero could be overpowered if the villain had enough men to throw at him.

Robin tensed briefly for what felt like the billionth time at the mention of his old boss, but the conversation went no further on that. Instead, it degraded further into a question-and-answer session that he listened to quite intently; about the victims, past and present, trying to line up the pieces in his head. Every murderer had some kind of method to what they did; no matter how vague or farfetched. Every murderer killed for a reason; no matter how weak the reason was. Even if it was just a matter of revenge.

"When we get back to the station, I'll put in a call for the case files and the folders for each victim." Gordon said, yanking Robin out of his thoughts. "It's going to take a day or two for them to get here--"

"We can wait." Robin found himself saying abruptly. The muscles in his legs were starting to quiver uncontrollably. He wanted to run away from Gordon at the same time he wanted to say 'hello'. He wanted to ask about Batman at the same time he wanted to keep his past as far buried as he could. It was maddening the way he couldn't seem to make up his mind.

In the end, his desire for secrecy won out. He hadn't given any indication that he even recognized the man standing in front of him. His friends didn't need to know exactly whose shadow he had stepped out of. It wasn't the issue at hand here.

"Chief Reilly, if there's anything else we can do--" Robin started, but Reilly cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"You do more than enough for this city every day." she said with half a smile. "Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious and contact us the moment you learn something relevant to the case." She turned to Gordon. "And you had best make arrangements with your hotel about staying here for an indefinite length of time and I'll see about getting you some accommodations at the station."

"Thank you." Gordon spared a moment to turn to Robin. "Good to see you again."

Robin's mouth pulled deeper in that scowl almost automatically.

"You too." he said grudgingly after a moment, steadfastly ignoring the surprised stares that were suddenly being aimed at him.

Having guessed that the conversation was going to die before it ever got off the ground, Gordon followed Reilly out of the alley, leaving a frosty silence between himself and the teen vigilante.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Man... That is just sick. Absolutely sick." Cyborg said, though more to himself. He was looking at the coroner's pictures of the corpse and despite what he had said earlier, he was still scarfing down slices of pizza at an amazing rate that was only rivaled by Beast Boy. The green changeling was seven slices into his own vegetarian pizza with pineapple toppings.

It was late in the evening and the wind was picking up and the sun was well on its way down, spreading an unearthly chill through the air. The Titans had returned to the Tower about half an hour ago. There had been a round of questioning all the people who lived the area of the murder, trying to figure out if the dead homeless man had had any enemies, a trip to the coroner's office to pick up the photos and Robin had been incessantly nitpicking the scene of the crime. It was his way of making sure he had covered all the possible clues. The Boy Wonder had then retreated to his bedroom with his dinner and hadn't come out since. No one expected to see him for at least two, maybe three hours.

"What are we after? A dog?" the aforementioned changeling asked, slung across the back of the sofa like a cat and staring at the pictures over Cyborg's shoulders. "'Cause there's no way that a person did that. Unless the person has some super long fingernails or the teeth from hell."

The body parts in question morphed briefly to add emphasis to Beast Boy's statement.

"The Holiday Killer -- as they are calling it -- is not human. Or there is something working for him that is not human." Raven stated. She had taken a seat as far from the two boys as she could get without looking too rude and was attempting to have some form of table manners while eating pizza off a paper plate.

"I just said that." Beast Boy said with a small pout.

"I know. I'm saying that there was something _else_ in that alley last night." Raven went on patiently. "Something that is not supposed to be on this plain of existence. Gotham's Police Commissioner has been looking the wrong way this whole time."

"Are we going to tell him that?" Cyborg asked, giving the empath a semi-dubious look. He trusted Raven's judgment on the ooky, otherworldly mojo, but she had a tendency to keep a lot of information regarding that ooky, otherworldly mojo to herself.

"Dude, that guy came from Gotham! I bet he deals with weird shit like that all the time!" Beast Boy put in before Raven could reply. "You know what Gotham is?"

Plenty of rumors abounded about east-coast Gotham City, but the Titans had never been there themselves. Gotham had its own vigilante to take care of things. Additionally, to their collective knowledge, none of their number had been to that city.

"You think we get some weirdoes here? Well, let me tell you something! Gotham has got weirdoes in spades and they're even weirder than our weirdoes!" Beast Boy explained, getting on his knees for a slightly better vantage. "It's full of mobsters and thugs and criminal masterminds like Dr. Frost! And the two-faced guy and that joker-guy who thinks he's some kind of -- some kind of joker!"

"That would be the Joker." Robin interrupted, having walked in just a few seconds ago; a slight surprise because he had locked himself away for only an hour. "And it's Mr. **Freeze**."

"Freeze. Right. I knew that." Beast Boy said, just now becoming aware that he had gotten the name wrong. He suddenly gave Robin a highly suspicious look. "Hey, wait... How did you know what Frosty the ice-freak is actually called?"

"I've done a lot of research." Robin said in a too-casual tone, placing his plate in the sink. Then he stripped off his gloves, rolled up his sleeves and turned on the water. It was his week to do the dishes.

"Anyways," Cyborg decided to steer the conversation back into the previous and far safer waters. Whenever Robin used that too-casual tone, it was sure sign that they had better **stop talking** on whatever the subject and get to a different one immediately. He fished out a high resolution photograph. "The coroner found a wallet in the dead guy's pocket. We're looking at a Lars Bauer from Gotham City. Judging from the expiration date on his driver's license, this guy has been living on the streets for a good twenty years."

"He's from Gotham." Beast Boy said like this explained everything. "What does that say?"

"Says you're thinking too much, BB." Cyborg commented. He paused on one photo that was bird's-eye-view of the death site. The stain of blood on the pavement wasn't the only thing marring it. There was a funny sort of circle there too, but the humanoid couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was too faint. So he handed the photo to Raven. "Hey Rae, you recognize this?"

Raven peered at the faint outline of the symbol that enclosed the stain of blood. It was arcane, certainly, but it wasn't something that she had ever seen before. If she had her books on her right then, she might be able to identify the component parts...

"I'll look into it." she said and casually tucked the photograph into her cloak, where it disappeared and could be recalled on a whim. Beast Boy would still ask how she could do that even after she had explained it in highly technical terms in an attempt to get him to back off.

Starfire came drifting into the main room right around then, having just fed Silky his evening batch of blue fuzzy food. There was quite a lot of it still sitting in refrigerator. The Tamaranean princess didn't understand why her friends didn't dare touch the blue fuzzy food. It was wonderful. The blue fuzz added just the right spice to the food to make it taste very interesting.

In fact, there were a lot of delicious earth foods that her friends didn't like to eat. She didn't understand.

"Friends!" she cried happily. Not even a gruesome murder could dampen her enthusiasm for the Christmas spirit. "I plan to venture to the mall of shopping tomorrow! Who will join me?"

The looks she got were kind of long-suffering. Starfire frequently ventured to the mall for reasons they hadn't figured out yet. The mall was mystery in general to the boys -- one they preferred to avoid at all costs -- and Raven just couldn't understand what was so alluring about a place full of eye-hurting colors, bad music and overly-caffeinated teenagers... Okay, the Hot Topic store wasn't **too** bad, but it wouldn't kill them to lower their prices and turn down the music to a notch below deafening.

"Starfire," Robin started placatingly. "I'm not sure if this is the time to be thinking about shopping..."

"But we cannot allow a criminal to ruin the glorious season of Christmas!" Starfire protested. She so wanted to go shopping tomorrow. She had presents to buy! For her friends! "We must honor the traditions of Earth and present each other with gifts hidden in the paper of wrapping and the ties of bows! We must roast nuts over fire and have the cocoa of heat with the mallow marshes and make the men of snow!"

She looked so hopeful about being able to fully indulge in the traditional ways of celebrating Christmas that Robin was reluctant to tell her 'no'. There hadn't been a single opportunity to do all this last year and from the way it was looking, they weren't going to be able to do any of that this year either. In fact, Robin would go as far as to say that they were never really going to have a proper Christmas. Not while leading the vigilante life. The best they would most likely be able to manage was something patchwork and piecemeal; just like last year.

"We have a murderer to catch." Robin said as seriously as he could while he was up to his elbows in soapy water. "And a bad one at that. He's not going to wait until the holidays are over. We've got to catch him and we've got to do it as soon as we can."

"The police can't handle this alone." Raven put in, fixing the alien girl with a steady stare that was neither accusing nor a glare. It just -- was. "What we're looking for either isn't human or there is something otherworldly backing him. I can tell you that much right now." She folded her hands in her lap. "I'm just amazed that G.C.P.D was able to learn as much as it did."

"That's 'cause the Batman lives there." Beast Boy said with a grin. He never said it out loud -- because Robin always seemed to get all weird and twitchy at any mention of the Dark Knight, however offhand -- but the Batman ranked high on the list of Beast Boy's most idolized superheroes. "The Batman's the greatest detective who ever lived!"

"I wouldn't go that far..." Robin muttered, but was careful to keep the comment well under his breath. He didn't want to invite any potentially awkward questions. Raven had already shot him suspicious looks after meeting Commissioner Gordon. Out of all the Titans, the empath was the only person who knew anything about the past that Robin deliberately kept hidden. But she was highly respecting of other peoples' privacy, so he trusted that she would never say a word on it unless she had permission to do so.

Strangely, Robin's nearly inaudible comment plunged the main room into silence, as though it had reached the ears of the others. For a moment, there was only the low sound of the television, on and tuned to the news; which was covering the weather for the next week and the reporter was hoping for a clear weather the weekend after next for the annual Christmas charity ball.

"It doesn't matter." Raven said, breaking the silence. "The killer is not entirely human, meaning we're going to have to use methods that aren't human-contrived to capture it. The moment I find out what it is, I'll have a way of subduing it."

"You're saying that the Batman couldn't capture it?" Beast Boy said, determined to defend the honor of his favorite vigilante.

"The Batman is human under the cape and cowl, you realize." Raven said, in no mood to put up with the changeling's hero-worshipping. Beast Boy gave another pouting expression, but did not push the matter any further

As if that statement was the cue, everyone looked to Robin for their next instructions. There was no doubt in their minds that he already had the next few steps planned out in his mind; he knew exactly what to do and how to do it and there was a Plan B if Plan A failed miserably. He had excellent planning skills. That was why he was the leader. That was why he remained the leader.

But Robin had gone unusually still; frozen in the act of rinsing a cup out. The water overflowed from the cup and sluiced over his bare hands, but he didn't seem to notice. He was staring at the overflow, but he wasn't really seeing it. The moment he was experiencing seemed far too surreal. Here they were, oh so casually bandying the name of the Dark Knight, largely unaware that one of them actually knew the man under the cape and cowl. He could never tell them. He wasn't interested in delving that far into his past. The way he saw it, his life with Batman was an entirely separate life and the information on it came on a strictly need-to-know basis.

The rest of the Titans had just never needed to know.

"Robin?"

Starfire's gentle voice jarred Robin from his thoughtful silence before it could become a reverie. Jerkily, he emptied the cup and placed it in the dish drainer. He drained the sink, shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry his hands.

"I'm going on patrol." he announced shortly, balling up the towel and lobbing it Beast Boy's head without a conscious thought. Then he swept out of the room, his cape fluttering behind him in a way that made him feel distinctly exposed. He resisted the urge to grab at it and wrap it around his body protectively. He wasn't a kid anymore; living in the shadow of some overgrown bat.

Gotham was his past. He had left it two years ago.

But he had not expected Gotham to follow him to Jump.


	3. Chpt3: Against the Things That Go Bump i

**A/N:** I really don't have anything else to say other than "reviews make writer happy."

**Disclaimer:** If I really owned _Teen Titans_ and everything that goes with it, I just don't think I'd be writing fanfiction about it.

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**A Patchwork Christmas**

Chapter Three: Against the Things That Go Bump in the Night

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"_So it's official then? The Holiday Killer is in Jump?_" Bennet asked, his voice crackling slightly over the long-distance connection. It was a bit of a bad one; there was a small winter storm squalling around Gotham at the moment.

"Yes, I'm going to need the folders on our previous seven murders." Gordon spoke into the phone, absently checking the file folders on the desk. He had been given a recently renovated office in Jump's main police headquarters. There was no one using this office, so it was turned over to him for the duration of his stay. All that was in it was a desk and chair, a computer and a phone, but it was serviceable and all Gordon felt like asking for.

Well, maybe his own espresso machine and a good supply of Styrofoam cups. Then he would be set for a while.

"_And this recent murder matches the other seven exactly?_"

"All the way down to the little details." Gordon said, flipping the cover open on one folder and eyeing the picture that was paperclipped to the front page. "I'm staying in the city until we can catch the perp. I think there's a good chance we can apprehend him this time."

"_Commissioner..._" Bennet sounded a bit skeptical about their chances this time, but given the last time, that was to be expected. "_Bats couldn't even get anywhere near the bastard. Last I heard, he was still laid up. And he ain't taking any painkillers either. And I heard that this _**morning**_._"

Stupid bat.

"Don't worry, I've got a good feeling. I hear there's a very good vigilante team in Jump." Gordon said, grinning at the picture of Robin inside the folder. It was an extraordinarily bad photo; his hair much messier than was normal for him; an exhausted and ill-tempered air about him; the kid looked like he had been pulled in for this picture after a long and particularly harrowing night with no warning whatsoever.

"_Really? What little bird did you hear that from?_" Bennet asked curiously.

"I didn't hear it from just any little bird. Turns out, there's a particularly rare breed of **robin** in Jump." Gordon said casually, professionally ignoring the muffled noises of triumph the detective was making. "There are five members to this team and that's five extra sets of eyes and ears that just might be able to pin down the Holiday Killer once and for all."

"_Remind me to thank them when they got the bastard behind bars for good._" Bennet said. Paper rustled in the background. "_I'll rush-deliver the files to the Jump City police station soon as I leave the office tonight. You should have them by this time tomorrow._"

"Thank you for doing this, Bennet." Gordon twisted in his chair slightly, glancing out the window and the swirling snow.

"_Not a problem Commissioner._"the detective said."_And tell the robin that all the folks back home say 'hi'._"

Like usual, Bennet hung up without a farewell and Gordon did likewise. It was a habit that most members of the Gotham P.D. developed in short order. Things tended to happen so fast there with little breathing room, sometimes there was no time for the formalities. The little things -- like saying 'goodbye' on the phone and even introductions on a few too many occasions -- always got lost somewhere in the shuffle. In fact, Gordon was fairly certain that there were several people in his office that he had never formally met before and only knew by sight alone.

The Gotham Police Commissioner swiveled the chair around to fully face the window. He couldn't help but notice that it was grime-free; flecked only with snow and not various-- whatever it was that came out of Gotham's often cloud-filled skies. Upon arriving to this city, he had been very surprised at just how clean Jump was. Clean and orderly and relatively peaceful; even this office had been newly-renovated. It was nicely placed too; overlooking the main square of the city. And the city itself had a low crime-rate, a distinct lack of chemical plants that were easily broken into and people who didn't spit insults at total strangers and start fights just because that person resembled the same person who bumped into them the day before. Gotham residents were unusually high-strung, but given the city's horrendous crime-rate...

The real psychotic freaks of nature were all safely locked away in a state-of-the-art asylum. The middle-class criminals were doing time in jail. And the petty thugs who caused trouble just for kicks were laid low by the weather. Not counting the Holiday Killer, the city was pretty quiet.

Not like Gotham. The city spent its holidays under constant police surveillance. There were a large number of parties that any villain would give their left arms to crash. But there were no sirens wailing through the air here. It was so quiet... Gordon had totally forgotten what it was like to be in a completely normal city. It was so normal that it seemed almost -- **ab**normal.

Living in Gotham had altered his perception of normalcy.

It was also a large part of the reason Gordon had decided to stay and lend a hand to the police. The Holiday Killer fit Gotham's perception of normal oh so perfectly that J.C.P.D. wasn't going to have any great ideas for bringing him in. And as far as Gordon knew, he and Robin were the only people here who knew just how to handle that level of normalcy.

No matter where one was, there shouldn't be only one person standing guard against all the freak and ghouls and the things that go bump in the night. It wasn't right to let only one person be the guardian.

"You have the same bad habits." Gordon commented, seemingly to the empty air but the office wasn't as empty as it had been a moment ago.

"You heard me coming?" Robin asked from where he stood near the closed door, slightly surprised.

"No offense," Gordon started, swiveling the chair around. "But I'm used to listening for Batman's entrances and exits. Compared to what he can pull off, you're a herd of tromping elephants. Those don't help either." he added, inclining his head to Robin's heavy, steel-toed boots which were currently caked with melting snow. Robin peered at his footwear for a moment, not really seeing what was wrong with them.

Gordon took the few seconds of silence that came next to really look at the Boy Wonder. It had been two years since he had last seen the kid and Robin had grown up some. He still looked as scrawny as ever, he was still gelling his hair up and he still dressed like a traffic light, but he had lost that slight chubbiness that came with kids below the age of twelve. He had definitely come into his own these last two years but Gordon would bet anything that Robin was still intimidated by Batman. Hell, who wouldn't be? That man would make the Terminator think twice.

"How--" He had to clear his throat. "How is everything back home?" Robin asked hesitantly. He had never really stopped thinking of Gotham as his home, but he was always hesitant to ask about it.

"They're fine." Gordon replied and a rather awkward silence descended on the office while the two occupants grappled for things to talk about.

The last time the two of them had actually spoken to each other had been right before a sting operation that went to pot halfway through. The last time Gordon had seen Robin had been about five months after that failed operation and the boy hadn't looked terribly happy with-- well, just about everything. A week later, Batman had turned up on the roof of the G.C.P.D. building alone and when asked where Robin was, he had replied: "Robin is on his own." It hadn't been until the end of the night did Gordon realize that that was Bat-speak for "Robin split town to go solo."

It was all over the papers the following day; most in big, bold headlines all asking: **"END OF THE DYNAMIC DUO?!!"** Disturbingly, there had been quite a lot of unnecessary panic in the streets, though not without good reason.

The split had worried the police as well, both the clean and the corrupt. Robin's presence had been the counterpoint to Batman's coldhearted-ness and both the clean and corrupt officers had feared a relapse of sorts; that Batman would just sink right back into that icy persona he had adopted for much of the early part of his career. Only Gordon -- for he was the only person who knew the vigilante well enough to catch it -- noticed that for a few weeks, Batman had been visibly checking himself before he went too far. The Dark Knight had obviously been very aware of the lack of his young comrade. To this day, Gordon had no idea what had caused them to part ways. Batman wasn't telling and he doubted that Robin would either.

"How's Batman?" Robin asked, the words escaping his mouth before he could think to stop them.

One of Gordon's eyebrows hit his hairline. There was a question he hadn't really expected to hear.

"He's fine." the Commissioner said after a moment. "Or he will be. Our killer did a number on him, but you know him. He'll be up again in no time."

A smile twitched on the corners of Robin's mouth before it was ruthlessly squashed. It had certainly been a somewhat unpleasant shock to run into Commissioner Gordon this afternoon. Gordon's mere "good to see you again" statement had obviously raised questions among his friends; questions Robin did not want to answer. If he had said that yes, he did know Gordon, that would have led to the question of how he had met the commissioner; something that could possibly lead back as far as how he had gotten into the vigilante business in the first place. He had wanted to go solo and he wanted to **stay** solo and keeping the past buried seemed like the best way to do it. Keeping the past an utmost secret wasn't always the best course of action, but as far as Robin had been concerned at the time, it was the only course of action he'd had.

"It's still good to see you again." Gordon added when the silence began to stretch too long. "I just wish it had been under different circumstances."

"Forget it. These would have been the only circumstances." Robin muttered, watching as the Commissioner's eyebrows disappeared into his receding hairline. "I'm not going back to Gotham."

"Never?" Gordon inquired, lacing his fingers together.

"Never." Robin said firmly. "There's no point in me going back. Batman can obviously handle the city without me and he made that perfectly clear."

Gordon might have disputed that if he actually knew what words had passed between the two of them. He also might have told Robin that he was wrong, but the boy was at the stage of a teenager's life where they thought they were invincible and always right. Robin would have to hear the words from Batman himself before he could be persuaded to believe otherwise.

Too bad Batman was really bad at translating his feelings into words.

Well, Gordon didn't know what he could say to Robin to get him to start thinking the opposite.

Damnable stoic bat.

"What are you expecting from him?" the Commissioner asked.

"What?" Robin had not been expecting such a question.

"What are you expecting Batman to do?" Gordon asked again. "He's far from a perfect man--"

"I know." Robin interrupted, his voice growing heated. He really didn't want the conversation to turn this direction. "But the least he could do is get out of that dank cave every once in a while. Y'know, actually join the living; look tan like the swinging bachelor he pretends to be instead of pasty white from spending all his time underground."

If Gordon raised his eyebrows any higher, they would be in danger of disappearing into his hair forever. There was something lurking between the lines there; he could almost feel it. This went so much further than Robin just wanting to see his mentor get out of the cave. Maybe he wanted to see him get out of the cape and cowl as well...

Okay, that was it. As soon as he was done here, Gordon was going to lock both Batman and Robin in a small room that had a very heavy door and no windows and let them duke it out until they came to an understanding.

"I came here because I wanted to talk to you about the murders, not -- him." Robin wore a disgruntled expression briefly and he made a throwaway gesture. There was a particularly venomous note to the pronoun. Gordon sat forward with an expression that said 'start talking kid'. So Robin did.

"I've thinking about what you told us earlier. You said that there had been seven seemingly random murder victims in Gotham, all taking place over the course of two weeks and over Thanksgiving, which is how the killer got his tabloid name. And the perp had slipped town nine days prior."

Gordon nodded. "We suspect that he left the city because Batman got much too close to unraveling the plan and that, of course, would have ruined the nice little operation the perp had had going on. The seven people murdered in Gotham had come from all different walks of life; from every rung on society's ladder. From the bottom to the top--"

"There is a connection." Robin interrupted. "It's small, but there is one. The very first murder was someone from the Narrows, right? A homeless man whose death means very little to society as a whole. And the first murder here happened on the wrong side of the tracks."

"Another homeless man." Gordon said, realization dawning. "If the Holiday Killer is going to follow the pattern he used in Gotham, then someone just a little ways up the ladder should be the next victim."

"I'd keep the police circling the low-income housing district." Robin recommended.

But the question that nagged at both of them was, what on earth had done that?! The eight victims hadn't been just killed. They'd been mauled! Eaten, for heaven's sake! Great chunks of their bodies had just been missing! Something had been roaming around last night and it had been seriously hungry. Obviously, it hadn't found what it had wanted in the trash bags and had then turned to the nearest source of food. The poor old homeless man last night had just been very, very unlucky.

So... Were they looking for a very big dog?

Or perhaps an animal had escaped from the zoo.

No, they would have heard about an escaped animal; particularly if it was a carnivore.

They sighed in tandem without meaning to. Robin had checked the J.C.P.D. files when they had gotten home and Gordon was certain that he had the G.C.P.D files well memorized these days, for all he had poked through them. New files had been entered into the databanks regarding this case, but it did not contain any more information beyond what they already knew.

Beyond what **they** knew, at any rate.

Batman had a notorious and frankly aggravating habit of with-holding information until the very end.

Gordon glanced up towards the former junior partner of Batman and Robin's eyes suddenly widened. It was the Gotham Commissioner's only warning before the window burst behind him in a shower of broken glass. He had the quickly passing thought that maybe he should have moved the desk so that his back would be to the wall instead of the window while Robin rushed forward, a hand reaching for his belt. But one did not survive in Gotham P.D. without developing seriously quick reflexes and it was these quick reflexes that had saved him many a time in the past. It was these quick reflexes that had Gordon well away from his desk before what was responsible for breaking the window had even touched the floor.

It came in the form of person wearing a full mask and dressed all in black, crouched on the desk in a remarkably predatory fashion. One arm was twisted behind his/her back, clutching a long pole that ended in a wickedly curved silver scythe. Robin likened the intruder to a falcon watching carefully from its perch, waiting to pounce on its hapless prey.

Except that its prey wasn't very hapless this time. Robin had already pulled out his collapsible bo-staff and Gordon's free hand lunged for his standard-issue, semi-automatic handgun; to pull it free of its holster and turn it on their attacker.

But the attacker seemed to see both moves coming. He sprang off the desk, three of his limbs flung out like a belly-flopping spider; the hand holding the scythe still behind his back. Robin spun out of the way, not quite seeing what happened to Gordon, but knowing the man was fine regardless. The vigilante swung his bo-staff around, seeing that the intruder had left himself wide open. But the falcon-like man was somehow able to change his direction of travel in mid-air and the next thing Robin saw was the sole of a boot. Stars flashed in his vision when the boot made contact with his face, narrowly missing his nose. The momentum behind the kick sent him flying into the wall.

He was on his feet before he had finished falling and angled the staff downwards in a ramming position. Falcon had still not used the scythe; his left hand darting forward. Robin took two steps forward and saw the shining barrel of a gun being pointed in his general direction.

For a split-second or two, Robin was frozen, staring down into the black depths of that barrel. He didn't know why he had frozen; he'd had guns pointed at him plenty of times before. Occupational hazard of the vigilante business with one simple rule to go along with it.

_Don't get shot._

He heard the firearm click and there was a single throbbing ***crack!*** as the gun discharged. Instinctively, he threw himself to the floor as the heavy slug shot past both him and Falcon. The masked man had sidestepped smoothly out of the way, turning his body around to face the new adversary; turning his back on Robin. The Boy Wonder looked up to see Gordon down on the floor on one knee with his gun held in steady hands, re-aiming for Falcon.

"Careful!" Gordon barked sharply at the Boy Wonder, rising to his feet and into a position far more agreeable to the situation.

"I got 'im!" Robin shouted assuredly, jumping back to his feet, bo-staff ready to parry any attacks from the masked man. Falcon moved forward to meet him, but it never got that far.

There were several cops on duty who were still in the building and they had dropped everything at the sound of the gunshot. They burst through the doorway now, handguns held in ready-to-fire positions. At the sight of reinforcements, Falcon wasn't about to stick around. He never attempted to kill with witnesses on the scene. In a swift movement, a heavy boot came up and slammed into Robin's side, just a half-inch shy of his kidney.

The reversal came too fast for Robin to properly react in time. Falcon was out the window and into the flurry of snow in the time it took for Robin to fall to one knee. He straightened up instantly and was following Falcon out the window, determinedly ignoring the new ache in lower part of his ribs.

"What the hell?!" one of the new arrivals shouted in surprise, only catching sight of the fluttering edge of a black, titanium-fabric cape as it whipped out of sight.

"Commissioner Gordon! Are you alright?" the youngest of the newcomers asked, darting to the Gotham Commissioner's side. The officer only looked to be in his mid-twenties, maybe fresh out of academy training.

"I'm alright--" Gordon peered at the youth's name-plate through lopsided glasses. "Jacobs. Just caught me off-guard, that's all."

Lt. Valenti had slunk up to the broken window cautiously and was now looking over the city square.

"That was one of the Holiday Killer's men, wasn't it..." he said, glancing over his shoulder to the commissioner.

"It was me he was after this time. He knows I'm here." Gordon said grimly, getting to his feet and adjusting his glasses.

"And that was Robin going after that son of a bitch." Valenti said, a faint smile on his face. "Good. I feel better about this already."

The other four smiled appreciatively at the quip. The Titans, and Robin especially, were Jump's cavalry.

"Don't get complacent. It's men like that who took down the Batman." Gordon said sharply, killing the light-heartedness with a decisive blow. Somber faces abounded; none of the police really wanted to lose a member of Jump's cavalry, no matter how much they complained. The five officers in the room looked expectantly at the Commissioner and it took Gordon a second or two to realize why.

In the current absence of Chief Reilly, he had the absolute authority to order the men around. Guest he may have been, but he was to be treated with the respect his position demanded and any orders he gave were to be followed.

"Robin is going to need back-up." Gordon said. It was time to show the J.C.P.D. how to deal with a Gotham-spawned criminal. "Let's get a move on."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Robin regretted, to an extent, his off-the-cuff decision to go patrolling in this blizzard-like weather with the sharp, cold wind cutting right through his uniform and then going to have a chat with Gordon that had put a couple of second thoughts in his head -- he wasn't going to dwell on them at the moment; there wasn't time -- but he didn't think he could have withstood anymore talk from his team about the Dark Knight before cracking. Gordon, at the very least, knew when the subject was turning too sour to pursue it further and the fact there was a longer history between them helped a bit.

It also meant that Gordon could read him easier and he rather didn't like that part.

Nevertheless, the Gotham Commissioner's presence here was surprisingly welcome.

Largely unaware that the police were mobilizing behind him but suspecting as much, Robin tore across the snowy rooftops after the fleeing man. The bastard was damn fast and with the current weather situation, it was getting difficult to keep a bead on him. The glaring neon lights from various store signs didn't help the matter either, but the winter weather had chased everyone indoors for the night so Robin encountered no resistance from the local populace. Besides, he had already sent out a distress signal to the Tower and he had confidence that the rest of his team would mobilize swiftly.

He also had confidence that he would get further in this than Batman had been able to. He just needed to find the right time to make his move.

He had a bad feeling that the time was coming up sooner than he liked.

_C'mon! Where are you going?!_ Robin wondered as he pelted across the top of the community building. Falcon was a full rooftop ahead and still moving fast. They were leaving the center of the city behind rapidly. If they continued in this direction, they would soon come to the waterways; the place where clean water from the sewage treatment plant went to rejoin the natural cycle. Beyond the treatment plant was nothing but nature for a good thirty to forty miles in two directions. Forty miles of nature and trees to get lost in and that was if one chose to traverse in a straight line. Robin hadn't been back there very often; he didn't know the trails. He would get lost very easily and it wouldn't take much effort.

Furthermore, the waterways were also the best places to enter the city's network of sewer tunnels. Robin had been in there a fair few times before and he could probably find his way back to the J.C.P.D. building and a few other places through the tunnels.

But now came his dilemma. Should he A: let the masked man escape into the sewers with a tracer attached to his back? Or B: beat him into the ground and demand information?

Option B was very, very tempting as he hadn't just gone and wailed on any baddies in a while, but Option A was more likely going to garner much more satisfactory results.

And then there was Option C.

Robin didn't even want to think about Option C. He really didn't want to use that one. That one--

***Bam!***

Robin didn't get the chance to really contemplate the possible ramifications that accompanied Option C. Falcon had obviously grown tired of the chase and had decided that it was time to step this up a notch. Robin had been busy thinking about his options and he hadn't seen the man come to a halt, so he had run right into him. Mortified at his own brief lack of attention, the Boy Wonder leapt backwards a good ten feet, his heavy boots slipping and sliding on the ice and snow that was obtaining the consistency of the concrete it had collected on. The two of them were standing on the ground now, next to one of the run-off canals that led back into the ocean. The water below was partially frozen and flowing sluggishly.

Falcon was standing in a casual manner that brough to mind RedX and Robin ground his teeth at the unusual likeness. But it wasn't that thief. RedX had last been sighted causing trouble somewhere way south -- near the Mexican border, in fact -- only just four days prior and the Flash had been in the area on an apparent sight-seeing tour; camera and everything. Needless to say, RedX hadn't gotten too far before he had been apprehended. He was no doubt locked up right now, meaning there was no way that he could be here in Jump. Besides, the thief had made it very clear that he was only out for himself.

Robin took the brief seconds of inactivity to have a good look at his opponent. Clothed all in black with a mask and visor protecting his face, Falcon was distinctly lanky limbed and beneath the swaths of black cloth, appeared to be bit on the skinny side as well. There were no suspicious bulges in the clothing that suggested hidden weapons or even femininity. The silver scythe clutched in the hand that was still curled behind his back appeared to be the only weapon.

But appearances could be highly deceptive.

That Robin knew well. He would have to keep his guard up.

Falcon raised his free hand and made a taunting 'come on' motion, shifting his weight as if to walk forward. Robin planted the bottom tip of the bo-staff into the snow and gave a challenging smirk. He could almost feel his opponent sizing him up. Neither of them looked like very much, but Falcon had already demonstrated exceptional swiftness and fairly good stealth skills. Born and raised as an acrobat, Robin would be a circus brat 'til the end of his days.

"Shugain bea gasur!" Falcon shouted. "Racan mise!"

Robin blinked when the entirely foreign words registered in his mind. He had no idea what the man had just said, but the tone was enough to go by. It was a challenge. He was daring Robin to fight him.

And Robin did not often back down from a challenge.

Probably one of his larger failings, but he too often turned a blind eye to the more obvious of his flaws.

So the challenge was accepted.

The next phase was the familiar one of posturing where both opponents gave a very short demonstration of what they were capable of. Robin gave the bo-staff a few sharp spins to indicate that he had a very good grip that wasn't going to be broken any time soon. Falcon at last took the scythe out from behind his back and started -- for lack of a better term -- _whirling _it through the air with one hand in a twisting pattern that would have made any marching band's color guard absolutely green with envy. The curved blade made an ominous buzzing noise as the air whooshed over its surface. Despite his external fascia of confidence, Robin felt the smallest trickle of cold doubt creep down his spine.

He hoped his team or the police would get here soon.

He shook the cold doubt away, called upon every ounce of fighting experience in his possession and made the first move.

The right tip of the bo-staff came swinging up for the unprotected left side, but once already, Falcon had proven himself to be inhumanly fast. The staff collided not with flesh and bone, but instead with the scythe. Robin felt the impact all the way up both his arms and for a wild moment, he swore that his shoulders had been knocked out of their sockets. That scythe was not made of normal materials, he could tell. There was something eerie about the way the bladed edge gleamed in the orange light from the lamp post overhead.

Falcon pulled back, taking the scythe with him. He dug one heel into the ground and thrust forward, forcing Robin onto the defensive. He had never fought before against someone wielding a scythe and he was quite at a loss on how to properly block. He settled for dodging out of its path and staying out of the long swinging radius. That wouldn't be enough. He knew that instinctively. He would need to defeat this guy sooner or later.

Five moves later during which he acquired a few new bruises and a scrape from falling once on the ice, something became very obvious to the Boy Wonder. Something he didn't like.

He wasn't going to be able to defeat the man.

When he realized that, he paused for half a second. In that half-second, Falcon lunged forward and Robin instinctively fell back. The scythe's blade just grazed his torso, cutting right through the tough material of his costume and leaving a thin paper cut-like cut on his chest, right at the base of his sternum.

Then he hit the ground.

The cut was shallow, but the unusual amount of pain that came with it was enough to distract Robin from stopping his fall. Strangely enough, it was his elbows that took the brunt of the impact.

Falcon was standing over him in a flash and the scythe was plummeting down towards the teenager. Robin whipped the bo-staff horizontally across his body, just in time for the blade to slam into the staff, the épée biting into the metal like it was butter.

"Torad." Falcon snarled, applying pressure with the scythe. Robin heard a distinct crack and it had come from the bo-staff. It was breaking and if Falcon continued to apply pressure, the staff wasn't going to last much longer.

He realized that there was nothing directly beneath his head except for open air. Ten feet down was the canal; all cold water and ice.

Another crack. The staff was starting to fracture. The scythe only had an inch and half left to go before it cut through entirely and the only thing that would stop it then was Robin's own ribcage.

He twisted his head around and looked down at the waterway, and then thought back to his previous options. Options A and B were a bit null right now. They were no good anymore.

So then... Option C it was.

Robin pulled his legs in as much as he could and kicked out at Falcon. His feet impacted with the older man's abdomen and sent him staggering back several feet. Space enough. The teenaged vigilante scrambled back to his feet and threw an exploding disk at the man. Under the cover of the explosion and the ensuing smoke, Robin took a deep breath, quelled his wailing fear, and hurled himself into the icy water of the canal.


End file.
